


Faith

by Irelando



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Rebelcaptain Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irelando/pseuds/Irelando
Summary: Why is it, Cassian wonders wryly, that when things go wrong, they always do sospectacularly?(for rebelcaptain week, day three: undercover)





	Faith

Why is it, Cassian wonders wryly, that when things go wrong, they always do so _spectacularly_?

It’s not enough that his cover got blown. It’s not enough that it happened too quickly for the rest of Rogue One to come to his aid. It’s not even enough that he got taken down too fast to do anything more than send a single, brief signal out into the void.

No, he just had to get caught in a base under the command of one of the few Imperial officers who’ve seen his face before.

“Well, well, well,” Commander Vantai tuts, circling slowly around Cassian and the two Stormtroopers currently jabbing him in the ribs with their blasters. “Lieutenant Willix. Or have you been promoted since you mysteriously disappeared from my command?”

Cassian takes a deep breath, flexing his wrists against the cuffs currently pinning them at the small of his back, and says nothing.

“I thought not,” Vantai says. He’s awfully proud of himself considering he didn’t recognize Cassian when he first entered the base, but then Vantai was always one to give himself more credit than he was due.

The commander loses interest when Cassian doesn’t rise to the bait. He glances toward the entrance to the hangar bay, squinting past the hazy blue screen protecting them all from the hard vacuum beyond. “Where is that prisoner transport?” he demands of a nearby flunky.

“They’re close, sir,” the man answers hastily. “Their codes cleared; they should be landing any minute.”

“Good,” Vantai says. He turns to regard Cassian again, a slow, nasty smirk curling the corner of his mouth. “It’s your lucky day, Willix. As much as I’d like to interrogate you myself, I have more important matters to attend to.”

Cassian can’t quite keep his eyebrow from quirking upward, but he keeps his mouth shut.

A flash of anger crosses Vantai’s face. Before he can act on it, the forcefield across the mouth of the bay crackles. The shuttle eases in, settling to the ground with a creak of the landing gear. Cassian resists the urge to peer into the viewport for a look at the pilot, even as hope pounds painfully in his chest. _Come on, come on…_

The ramp takes an eternity to open, the Empire’s signature white haze drifting out of the opening.

A diminutive form emerges from the smoke, flanked by an unusually bulky Stormtrooper. Cassian bites down hard on the inside of his cheek to ward off a grin.

“Took your sweet time getting here,” Commander Vantai says as the two figures approach. “I do have better things to do than wait around, you know.”

Jyn comes to a regulation-perfect stop in front of them, her back ramrod straight. If he didn’t know every inch of her body better than he knew his own, he’d almost have a hard time recognizing her. It startled the hell out of him the first time she did it; Jyn, as it turns out, is a chameleon. Whether it’s natural talent or the result of a life spent on the run, when she takes on a different role, it changes everything about her, down to the way she breathes.

“I’m very sorry, sir,” she says, her tone a spot-on mixture of deference and boredom. “We had a little engine trouble—“

“Never mind, I don’t care,” Vantai says impatiently. “Let’s just get on with it.”

Jyn’s eyes flicker to Cassian. She jerks her head once at the Stormtrooper behind her. He steps past her, heading for Cassian. Vantai’s eyes flicker from the new trooper to the two holding Cassian’s arms, and narrow slightly. There are small differences between Stormtroopers, even the cloned ones, but Baze (and of course, that’s who it is) is considerably bulkier.

Jyn picks that moment to produce a holopad from under one arm. “I’ll just need you to sign off to authorize the transfer, sir.”

Vantai eyes Cassian a moment more, then turns to take the holo. Cassian’s guards surrender him to Baze without a fuss; the Guardian’s grip on his arm is much gentler than the others, his blaster hovering a couple inches away instead of digging into Cassian’s ribs.

“There,” Vantai says, giving the holo back. “Now get out of my sight.”

“Of course, sir,” Jyn says. She executes a perfect parade turn and marches off across the bay. Baze and Cassian trail behind; Cassian puts up a small token resistance, but a glance behind him shows Vantai has already lost interest.

By unspoken agreement, none of them break character until they’ve reached the safety of hyperspace. Then, Jyn groans and stretches, letting her breath out on a sigh. “That act is killer on my back.”

Baze pries the helmet off his head, shaking sweaty hair out of his face. “At least you can breathe.”

“Everything okay down there?” Bodhi calls from the cockpit above.

“All aboard in one piece,” Jyn confirms.

Cassian clears his throat. “A little help?”

Jyn comes to sit beside him on the bench seat. Cassian turns so she can get at the cuffs; her fingers brush against his skin, and he suddenly feels like he could snap them in half if it means he could touch her again. But he can’t, so he forces himself to hold still.

“What happened?” she asks as she works.

He shrugs. “It’s a long story. I got unlucky.”

“Sounds pretty short to me,” Baze comments, pieces of armor clattering to the floor as he carelessly shucks them off.

“Vantai got a little suspicious,” Cassian says, glancing at Jyn.

“I noticed,” she says dryly. “We’ll ditch the shuttle at Corellia; Avan’s meeting us there to give us a ride back to our actual ship. There’s enough activity around there that they shouldn’t be able to follow us.”

“That’s a pretty good plan,” Cassian admits.

Jyn smacks his shoulder gently. “Don’t sound so surprised.” With a jerk, the cuffs finally give way. Cassian groans a little in relief, bringing his wrists around to massage them reflexively.

Baze glances at them, and wordlessly heads up the ladder.

Before Cassian can turn around, Jyn leans into his back, her head resting on one of his shoulders. Her hands drift down his sides; he reaches back to catch one of them, and only then feels the faint tremble in her fingers.

He casts about for a moment for what to say, and settles on, “I knew you would come.”

She butts her head against his shoulder once, lightly. “Don’t do that to me again. I thought…”

“I know,” he says quietly. He turns around then, and she meets him with a kiss, soft and insistent. He slips his arms around her waist, and feels hers do the same to his. She’s shaking, just slightly. Cassian thinks he might be, too.

What he hadn’t said was: he knew they would come, _but_. If they hadn’t gotten his all-too-brief message. If they hadn’t been able to find a cover in time. If he’d been carted off to some Imperial hellhole somewhere with no way to tell them where he’d been taken…

This could have been a lot worse.

It’s a ten-hour cruise to Corellia. They spend it together.


End file.
